


wish upon a hidden star in the sky

by LostHowl



Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Art, Art Student/Science Student, I Made Myself Cry, Idiots in Love, Love Confessions, M/M, Mutual Pining, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, len snart breathe if you agree
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-29
Updated: 2018-06-08
Packaged: 2019-05-06 09:54:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,364
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14639391
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LostHowl/pseuds/LostHowl
Summary: His canvas is still blank, stretching on for miles and mocking Len, whose brain is empty for ideas but full of Barry fucking Allen. He chews on his lip as he doodles in his sketchbook, drawing out the rough shape of Barry’s face: his jaw, his big eyes, his messy hair, his full lips.Len slowly brings his sketchbook up next to his canvas, glancing between the small doodle of Barry’s smiling face and the white of his canvas. He can picture Barry’s face perfectly, actually, the soft skin, the slightly flushed cheeks that set off his freckles well, the windswept hair, the bright eyes, the-(working title: how many times can i include art in coldflash before getting smacked)





	1. part one

In the dictionary of Len’s life, the word ‘love’ is always followed by Lisa’s name. That’s just how it’s always been.

Which is why, when Lisa says, “Lenny, I love you, but try painting something other than my face for once, okay?,” about his current assignment on emotions, Len can’t think of anything else to do. Sure, he could try another emotion like fear, or anger, or happiness, but nothing else really speaks to him. 

And staring at an empty canvas isn’t a great feeling.  _ Maybe emptiness, then, _ he amends, but realizes that he could just submit an empty canvas for that. The gears in his brain are frozen in place, and he can’t figure out how to get them moving. 

Of course, there are other things Len  _ likes,  _ but painting them under the word ‘love’ would be unsettling. So he continues staring, and staring, and staring, hoping that an idea will come to him, but nothing does. 

It’s all blank. 

And he tries - he really does! He looks at previous works, at images online, at other works based on emotions, he makes a list of emotions, he makes sketches and sketches but all he wants to do in the end is set his sketchbook on fire. 

When the bell rings, Len’s canvas is the only one without anything on it. 

He’s tempted to just paint Lisa anyway, because when has Len really listened to anyone? But somewhere in the back of his mind, he knows that she’s right. He’s been painting her for too long, getting away with it too much. 

Art is the worst.

 

\--

 

“Guys, I have a problem,” Cisco declares as he walks up to Caitlin and Barry at the library, placing his cup of coffee and jacket down on the table before sitting down in one of the two empty chairs left. “I think I have a thing for the T.A. in my chemistry class,”

“Congratulations,” Caitlin says, smiling. “You’re the last one to know,”

“I- what?”

“Dude, seriously,” Barry snickers. “You stare at him like he’s Han Solo come-to-life,”

This, Cisco sputters at.

“Plus, you’re not exactly subtle. You know your pupils dilate whenever you talk about him or see him, right?”

Leave it to Caitlin to notice things like Cisco’s pupils dilating.

_ “Riiight,” _ Cisco drawls. “And neither of you thought to tell me this before? You could’ve saved me weeks of wondering!”

“I thought you would’ve figured it out after you were the only one to give him a nickname,” Caitlin admits.

“His name is  _ Harrison _ , I can’t believe I was the first one to nickname him!”

“You compliment his hair, like, every day,”

“You guys are awful,” Cisco huffs. “That’s not friendship,”

“Well, for what it’s worth, you do look cute together,” Caitlin says with a smile, and Barry nods. 

“Yeah, yeah,” Cisco says, but smiles anyway. “So, what’s up with you two?”

“I’m trying to convince Barry to go out with my friend from Psychology,” Caitlin says. “You know Lisa, right?”

“‘Course,” Cisco takes a sip of coffee before skillfully hiding the cup behind his books and jacket so none of the staff would see it. “Don’t really see her with Barry, though,”

“See, I told you!”

“Well, I’m out of options. Unless you want to try Lisa’s brother,”

“She has a brother?” Cisco and Barry ask at the same time, looking at Caitlin with big, unblinking eyes. 

“Yeah, Leonard. I’ve never met him, though,” she says thoughtfully. “Lisa talks about him every now and then. He’s an art major,"

“Well, that explains why none of us knows him,” Cisco says. “The art building is, like, foreign land,”

“We should go for the art show this year!” Barry says. “I saw the flyer for it yesterday. It’s happening in a week, I think,”

“Dude, this physics assignment isn’t gonna go itself,”

“I’ve got a lab report due in ten days,”

“Oh, and  _ I’m  _ the bad friend for not telling Cisco about his crush?” Barry challenges. “Come on, it’ll be fun!”

“You just wanna know what Leonard looks like,” Cisco scoffs. 

“Is that a bad thing?” Barry asks sheepishly. “I’m curious! I mean, Lisa’s really pretty,”

“I can’t believe you’d go to an art show to see someone you don’t know, but won’t go on a date when I ask you to,” Caitlin says, shaking her head at Barry. It’s sort of the feeling you get when your mom asks if you’ve done your homework for the fourth time and you say no, and she gives you  _ the look.  _

“Alright,  _ fine,”  _ Cisco says. “How about if Harry agrees to go, I’ll go. And then Caitlin won’t want to be alone, so she’ll come alone?”

“I can be with Iris,” Caitlin says, and Barry shakes his head. 

“Iris is going with Joe to visit Wally that week,” he says. “She’s already told her professors,”

“Well, I guess I’m in, then,”

“Awesome!"

 

\--

 

But if anyone asks, Barry’s  _ not  _ going to the art building in advance to make sure he doesn’t get lost the day of the event. 

He’s heard rumours about how the hallways weave in and out without you realizing, and you’re suddenly walking in circles. He doesn’t really want to look stupid in front of all the students, parents, siblings and friends that are coming to the art show, so naturally, he goes to the art building the day after he makes plans with Cisco and Caitlin. 

And all of this seemed like a brilliant idea until Barry’s realized that he’s walking in circles.  _ Oh, shit.  _

“Uh,” he says softly, looking around the corner. Both sides look familiar, and he internally panics.  _ Of course  _ this would happen to him. He turns left, walks, and then turns right, only to find himself one turn away from the hallway he started with. 

The art on the walls is familiar, he can recognize the same dark blue painting when he walks by it for the third time, and the wooden sculpture in a corner when he sees it for the second time.  _ Oh, come on! _

“Okay, uh,” he says to himself, trying to remember which way he’s walked and which way he hasn’t. The art that was once familiar now seems like a blur of colours and canvases, and he can’t remember which ones he saw where. He stops at a four-way crossing, turning in all directions, trying to choose which way to go. 

“Are you lost?” Someone asks from behind him, and he jumps a mile high in shock. He decides that, if asked, he will deny squeaking. 

“Oh! Um,” he says, turning so fast he almost gets whiplash. “I, um..” 

And of course the person Barry runs into has to be the most attractive person that he could possibly see. Now not only is he making a fool of himself, he’s making a fool of himself in front of someone who looks like he’s been sculpted by Michelangelo. 

“Hey,” he says, snapping Barry out of his daze. 

“Huh? Oh, right! Yeah, I’m..” he trails off, shrugging. “I’m lost,”

“Let me guess, you’ve never come to the art building before?” He asks, and Barry decides to call him Blue because of his icy eyes that look so pretty. 

“Yep,” Barry says, way softer than he should, and Blue shrugs slightly. 

“I’m on my way out,” he says. “I can lead you to the front exit,”

“That would be great,” Barry says with a sheepish smile, and Blue tilts his head to the right before beginning to walk. Barry walks a step behind him, looking at the art as if it’s the first time he’s seeing it even though they both know it isn’t. 

“Are you an art major?” Barry asks, trying to initiate conversation as they go up a flight of stairs, and Barry doesn’t even question why they’re going up. 

“Why else would I be in the art building?” Blue asks, and Barry effectively dodges answering this question as a non-art student in the art building. 

“Are you putting up any art in the art show?” Barry asks instead, probably sounding way too excited. “My friends and I are coming for the first time,”

“Well, I hope you aren’t holding the map,” Blue says with a smile tugging at his lips, and Barry finds himself laughing. 

“Honestly?” He admits. “I stopped by to make sure I wouldn’t get lost the day of the show,”

“I see that’s going well for you,” Blue says, raising an eyebrow, and Barry catches up to walk right next to him. 

“Don’t you ever get lost? I mean, this place is a labyrinth!”

“I’ve been here for a few years,” Blue says. “It’d be beyond embarrassing if I still got lost,”

“Yeah, thanks for rubbing it in,” Barry huffs softly. “But seriously! Who designed this place?”

Blue gives Barry a quizzical expression. “You know, most people just ask for a map,”

“Can you even map this place?”

Blue’s lips twitch upwards as that, and he leads Barry down a long flight of stairs. 

“So, you’re not an art student. What major are you?”

“Forensics,” Barry says, caught. “All of my friends are from the science department, actually. One of my best friends is doing a double major in Physics and Engineering, and my other best friend is doing biomedical science with a minor in Psychology,”

“Mouthful,” Blue says. “My major is three letters long,”

“But it’s so cool!” Barry says, brightening, and Blue gives him a questioning look. “I mean- it might just be because I can’t do anything creative in forensics, but art is so interesting! You can do so much with it, you know? I mean, I’ve never been good at art, but when I look at something really good, it’s like I can’t breathe,

“I can’t really explain it, but.. it’s like I’m surrounded by the painting, or something like that? Sort of like I’m melting into the painting. Is that stupid to say? I feel like that’s stupid to say, but I just.. I don’t know. Art’s always been the coolest thing to me, the way you can express yourself without saying a word, and how you can find a way to say something without saying it at all. 

“Especially for me, ‘cuz I suck with words sometimes. I mean, there was this girl I liked in high school, right? Her name was Patty. Anyway, I talked to her once in the hallway, and I stubbed my toe right when I was about to ask her out, so I ended up saying “Fuck out,” which makes no sense! I’m pretty sure she thought I was super weird, but.. art? I mean, you can’t really go wrong with that.”

He stops to take a breath, and there are stars in his eyes. He knocks the breath right out of Blue’s lungs. 

“I don’t know,” Barry says, suddenly conscious of how long he’s been talking. They’ve reached the exit, the glass doors waiting to be opened. “I’m sorry, I kind of went off. But, uh, thanks for bringing me out,”

“Yeah,” Blue says, sounding a little breathless. 

“I’m Barry, by the way,” Barry says. “Barry Allen,”

“Nice to meet you, Barry Allen,” Blue says, a look of thrill in his eyes. “I’m Len,”

“Len?”

“Leonard, but Len,”

“ _ Shit,  _ like-” Barry stutters, eyes wide. “Like Leonard Snart?”

Len raises an eyebrow. Barry ducks his head and rushes out of the building, face red ‘til the tips of his ears. 

 

\--

 

Len is annoyed.

Super, super annoyed. 

His brain is a muddled mess of Barry Allen’s face and words. He can’t stop thinking about what he’d said about art, about how much he loved it, and Len wishes more than anything that he could feel that, too. He used to, at some point, but that point has passed and he can’t find himself agreeing with a single word that Barry said. The story about him and his crush from high school had been really entertaining, and Len wants to keep talking to him to find out more. 

He wonders how on Earth a conversation with a rambling forensics major has been more inspiring to him than anything else. The art show is in less than a week, and Len still has no ideas. 

His canvas is still blank, stretching on for miles and mocking Len, whose brain is empty for ideas but full of Barry fucking Allen. He chews on his lip as he doodles in his sketchbook, drawing out the rough shape of Barry’s face: his jaw, his big eyes, his messy hair, his full lips.

_ What a fucking joke.  _

Len looks back up at his canvas, wondering if it’ll paint itself. 

(It won’t.)

His hand is still moving on its own, roughly darkening Barry’s hair before scribbling ‘Barry’ near the face he’s drawn. He glances back down at his sketchbook, frowning, and looks at his canvas. 

Len slowly brings his sketchbook up next to his canvas, glancing between the small doodle of Barry’s smiling face and the white of his canvas. He can picture Barry’s face perfectly, actually, the soft skin, the slightly flushed cheeks that set off his freckles well, the windswept hair, the bright eyes, the-

“Professor?” He calls to the front of the class, lowering his sketchbook into his lap. There’s a look in his eyes that he’s sure hasn’t been there since he was doodling on the back of his tests in high school. His professor looks up from what she’s marking, nodding at Len.  “Is it too late to change my idea?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> could you tell that len's "i hate art" section was anecdotal? whoops.
> 
> part two is coming soon!
> 
> kudos and comments are super super appreciated <3


	2. part two

“Guys, guys, guys, guys,” Cisco says excitedly, running up to Caitlin and Barry. They’re seated at a table for four at the coffee shop near campus, and Caitlin was just about to tell Barry who she’s been crushing on before Cisco interrupted. They look up nonetheless, and exchange a blank look at the taller male dressed for a funeral behind Cisco. “This is Harry, my chemistry T.A.!”

“ _This_ is-?” Barry says, stopping himself quickly and clearing his throat. “Oh, uh, hey. I’m Barry, forensics major,”

“I’m Caitlin,” Caitlin says as Barry takes his bag off the fourth chair at their table, letting Harry take its place. “I’m studying biomedical science and psychology,”

“Hello,” Harry says, nodding at them both. “Harrison Wells,”

“Oh, wow,” Barry blinks. “I thought Cisco was joking about your name,”

“Of course I wasn’t,” Cisco says, stealing Caitlin’s coffee. They’ve had the same order for years. Of course, she’d anticipated it, so she takes a sip of her tea instead.

“So, Harry,” Cisco says, grinning. “You know the art show coming up in, like, a week?”

Harry nods. “Of course. I’m planning to go.”

“We were wondering if- wait, what?”

“Yeah, I’m planning to go,” Harry repeats. “Is that a problem?”

“Uh, no, it’s just..” Cisco pauses. “I was gonna ask if you wanted to go with us, but if you already have plans-”

“No, I was just going to stop by,” Harry clarifies. “I can come with you, if you want,”

Barry spaces out somewhere between, “You’re the best, Harry!”, and Caitlin asking Harry something, his mind drifting to the extremely embarrassing memory of rambling to Leonard Snart of all people. Just his luck. He hasn’t even told Cisco and Caitlin that that happened yet.

“Barry, six o clock work for you?” Cisco asks, and Barry snaps out of it. “On Friday?"

“Uh, yeah,” Barry says quickly. “Wanna meet up before or meet there?”

“We can just meet there,” Caitlin says. “I have class until five forty-five, so..”

“Sounds good,” Cisco grins, sitting a little too close to Harry.

 

\--

 

“You know, Lenny,” Lisa calls from her room before swinging the door open, pulling her arms through the sleeves of her jacket. “He’s a friend of a friend. I can introduce you, if you want,”

“Didn’t your friend ask _you_ to date him?” Len asks from the living room, where he’s working on an essay for his art history class. “He’s straight, Lisa,”

“Yeah, sure,” Lisa rolls her eyes affectionately at her brother. “That boy? Doe eyes, freckles, nerdy friend group, forensics? No way,”

“Aren’t you getting late for class?” Len asks, glancing at the time on his laptop before looking up. He doesn’t mention the story of Barry’s high school crush, and Lisa raises an eyebrow and sighs, because she’s always known when her brother is hiding something from her.

“If you see him at the art show, promise me you’ll talk to him?”

“No promises,”

_“Lenny,”_

“Okay, fine,” Len gives in. He can never say no to his sister. “If I see him,”

“Then promise me you’ll go to the damn art show,”

Len’s eyebrow twitches.

“Fine,”

“Good. See you for dinner!” She says, jumping into her shoes and leaving their apartment. Len sighs, resting his forehead on his keypad, letting it type a litany of random letters. _God fucking dammit_ , now he had to go make a fool of himself in front of Barry Allen for a _second_ time.

He shifts back up, selecting all the random letters and deleting them. It takes him three tries to read ‘brown paint’ as it is, and not as ‘Barry paint’. _Oh, boy._

 

\--

 

“Uh, okay, wow,” Cisco says in awe when the four of them enter the art building, immediately facing a large sculpture. It’s made of wood, carved intricately with fine details that Cisco may need a magnifying glass to see. “I can’t believe we haven’t come here all these years,”

“Tell me about it,” Caitlin says, looking up to see the top of the sculpture. “I feel like we’ve missed out,”

“I come here every year,” Harry says, but still looks completely awestruck.

“You tellin’ me that if I’d asked you out earlier, we would’ve come to this show the last two times it happened?” Cisco asks, raising his eyebrow.

“It only happens once a year, and you’re in your thir-” Harry stops himself, and Caitlin and Barry slowly move away when Harry says, “have you liked me for _three years_ , Ramon?”

“Awkward,” Caitlin says softly as they move down a hallway. “They _are_ cute, though,”

“They’re adorable,” Barry says. “Didn’t think Harry would look like he’s dressed for a funeral all the time, though,”

“Well, we’ve all got our things,” Caitlin says as they move through the hallways of people, looking at the art hung on the walls.

It ranges from portraits to abstract pieces, paintings to prints, coloured to black and white, hanging to standing, 2D to 3D, still life to fantasy, interactive pieces, installations, sculptures, _everything,_ and Barry is thoroughly entranced. He can’t even recognize the hallways anymore, and feels himself melting into all the art and the colours, feeling it flow through him and capture him, holding him in place and--

“Barry,” Caitlin whispers, placing her hand on Barry’s arm. They’ve both frozen in front of a painting of a familiar face. Barry’s brain has short-circuited, his heart has stopped beating, and his breath has caught in his throat.

“It’s, um,” Caitlin says, reading the label next to the large canvas. “It’s by Leonard Snart, Barry,”

“Oh, my god,” Barry says, sounding breathless, his entire face flushed red.

It’s his face.

Leonard Snart painted Barry’s face.

He can barely breathe.

“Uh, wow,” Barry whispers. It looks beautiful. It’s the face he’s sure he made while rambling about art, about how much he loved it, about the embarrassing story from high school, about how his love for art is practically endless. It’s such a wonderful painting; it has Barry’s face pictured perfectly.

His face is stretched into a sweet smile, his cheeks slightly flushed, freckles in the shapes of stars over his face, his eyes holding small universes in them. Barry leans towards the information of the painting and reads it to himself ten times until he’s able to actually comprehend it. It says it’s written for the emotion of ‘thrill’, but Barry can’t stop reading the title to himself again, and again, and again.

 

Leonard Snart

_The Life In Your Eyes_

Oil on canvas

 

What he had thought was embarrassing rambling, Leonard had thought was beautiful enough to stretch across a canvas. What he had wanted to forget ever happened, Leonard had thought was so precious and wanted to preserve. What he’d hated, Leonard had loved.

“Oh, my god, Cait,” Barry says, holding onto his friend so he doesn’t fall. “I don’t think I’m breathing,”

“Barry, calm down,” Caitlin says, leaning him against a nearby wall that doesn’t have art on it. “Breathe with me, okay?”

It takes Barry a few minutes to calm down. His heart is pounding in his chest and his mind is _racing_ because that’s him, that’s him in the painting, Leonard Snart painted him and it’s so beautiful.

“You okay?” Caitlin asks when Barry begins breathing evenly, and Barry nods.

“I just-” Barry tries, but can’t find the words. “I- I mean..”

Caitlin gives him a warm smile.

“I’ll let it go for now, but details later,” she says, and Barry breathes a laugh. “Come on, let’s go find Leonard so I can leave you with him and see the rest of the art,”

“Yeah,” Barry says, grinning. “You still need to tell me who you’re crushing on, you know?”

“Let’s walk and talk,” Caitlin says, and then begins with, “his name is Ronnie,” after a minute.

 

\--

 

Len doesn’t have to go. It’s not like Lisa’d know whether or not he does, because she has a class for the majority of the event, so he doesn’t _have to_ go. But he does anyway, because how on Earth is he supposed to lie to Lisa?

“Hey, man, good job on your painting! It’s really good!” Ray, his roommate from his year in the dorms, says as he walks through the halls.

“Thanks,” Len says in response, then the usual, “yours too,” even though he hasn’t seen Ray’s work yet. Ray brightens up anyway, shoots him a bright grin, and walks by.

Len stops by his own painting. He wonders if Barry’s been by yet, or if he’s still even coming to the art show. He reads the artist statement that he’s read over a hundred times, looking around to see Barry. He can see Harrison, a chemistry T.A., with someone he doesn’t recognize. He can see Hartley, the law and engineering student he used to share a class or two with. He can see several parents and younger siblings of artists roaming the halls. No sign of Barry.

“What- I only saw him once, Cait, I can’t recognize him in a crowd of hundreds of people,” he hears a voice hiss from around the corner.

“Of course you can, you just have to try!”

“I’m trying, I just-” Of fucking course, “oh, I’m so sorry, I wasn’t looking!”

Len clears his throat. When Barry’s eyes focus on who he almost ran into, they widen to the size of dinner plates. The shorter female looks at Barry, then at Len, and then waits a second before adding, “I’m Caitlin, Lisa’s friend. Please take care of my hopeless friend,”

She rushes off a second later, leaving Barry’s face red, and Len sighs softly.

“You, uh,” Barry says softly. “Your, um, your painting. It’s- It’s good,”

“Good?” Len echoes, solely to tease.

“What? Oh, no, I mean, it’s great! It’s beautiful- well, it’s _me_ , but I’m not conceited or anything, I swear, uh-” Barry stutters. “You know I’m bad with words,”

“The story with your high school crush, I recall,” Len says, lips curving upwards. “It was a fascinating story,”

“It was _embarrassing,”_ Barry corrects him, finally looking up to meet his eyes. Len’s whole world spins out of control, turning into colours stolen from a Franz Marc palette.

“Thank you,” Barry whispers finally. “Uh, for the painting,”

“Thank you,” Len says before he can stop himself. “For helping me not paint the same thing for the tenth time in a row,”

Barry laughs softly. “What do you usually paint?”

“Lisa,” Len says with a sigh. “My sister,”

“Oh- oh, right, Caitlin tried to get me to date her,” Barry blurts. Len stifles a laugh.

“And yet, here you are,” he says, raising an eyebrow. “With her brother,”

“Oops?” Barry offers with a sheepish smile.

“Barry!” A loud voice comes from around the corner, and the man that Len had seen with Harrison nearly trips into Barry. “Barry, man, there you are! Did you see the- look! See, someone painted you!”

Len can’t stifle his laugh this time.

“Wha- hey, don’t laugh at me!”

“Cisco,” Harrison chides.

“Hey, guys,” Barry says with an awkward grin. “This is Leonard, uh, Lisa’s brother. He painted me,”

Cisco stares at Barry with a look of betrayal.

“You little-” he bites it back. “You said you didn’t know him!”

“Well, I didn’t when I said it!”

“Sounds fake, but go off!”

“People are staring,” Harrison says, pulling Cisco away. Cisco calls, “I want the full story, Barry!”, and Barry stares quietly.

“Sorry about that,” he says to Len, who’s having the most fun he’s had in a long time. “That’s the friend I told you about. Engineering and physics,”

“You, Barry Allen,” Len says. “Are the most interesting person I’ve met,” and then, before he can stop himself, “can I take you out to coffee?”

“Can you-” Barry blinks. “Oh! Um, well, it’s kind of late now, but-”

“Tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow would be great,” Barry breathes out, smiling so brightly that Len wants to grab his face and kiss him. He doesn’t, though. “Thanks for- you know, the painting,”

He can see a hundred different ways to paint Barry already. Maybe with flowers, with stars, holding the stars, in water, with fire, maybe lightning? _Red,_ Len decides. _Maybe I’ll title it 'Scarlet'._

“Can I do it again sometime?”

“Paint me? Or ask me out?”

“Both, preferably,” Len says simply, mentally painting the picture of Barry surrounded by Red lightning. He watches Barry brighten like a firework.

“I- what? Yes!” Barry says, too excited and too quickly. “I mean- yeah, yes, I’d like that. I’d like both. A lot,”  
  
Of course he would. _Of fucking course he would._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for reading! i've been meaning to write a university au for a long time, and i'm really happy with how this one turned out. i have exams all through june and summer school in july, so updates will be minimal if i post at all :(
> 
> as always, kudos and comments are truly appreciated. love you all!

**Author's Note:**

> fic title is from sueyoshi shuta's re:time


End file.
